For As Long As We Both Shall Live
by Aerileigh
Summary: Sometimes we discover that life "ever after" is complicated and not remotely happy. "What did you tell him?" Ginny demanded. "What lies are you feeding my child?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "I told my child that he was going to be perfectly safe," he said gently, "and that his mum would be perfectly safe, too." His eyes glittered dangerously. "Care to make that into a lie?"
1. Chapter 1

The summer sun shone warmly on the tiny, ramshackle little cottage that nestled snugly down in a hollow between two grassy hills, framed by a copse of friendly-looking trees. Despite the hanging eaves and sagging back door, it was an idyllic scene, and Ginny Weasley had worked very hard to make it be so.

As soon as the breakfast dishes were in the sink and she'd charmed the sponge to wash and the towel to dry, she grabbed a trowel from a low, earthy shelf next to the door and called, "Alex? Want to help me in the garden?"

"Sho!" came a small voice, and she heard the thump-thump-thump of his little feet pounding along the wide, age-worn floorboards, followed by a bang and a cry.

"Oh, no," Ginny muttered, dropping the trowel and crossing the kitchen. There, sitting on the floor in the corridor, was a small boy clutching his knee and crying pitifully.

Ginny scooped him up in her arms and held him close, carrying him into the kitchen as she cooed, "Did you hurt your knees, lovely? Poor boy. Shall I kiss them?"

She settled him on the counter and examined his legs carefully as he sniffled. "Oh, this looks terrible," she said with mock seriousness. "I think it's going to take at least three kisses to mend a bump this big."

Bending down, she kissed each knee. "One, two" she counted, tickling his tummy, then planting one more kiss on his forehead as the toddler burst into peals of laughter. "Three!"

He giggled, tears forgotten. "More!"

"Don't you want to help Mummy in the garden?" Ginny said, setting him down on his feet. "Where are your shoes?"

He folded his arms. "No shoes, Mummy. I's going barefoots."

Ginny sighed and glanced out the open window at the warm sun. "Okay. I guess a little dirt between your toes won't hurt you."

He grinned mischievously and wiggled the aforementioned toes as he scampered to the door ahead of her. She grabbed the trowel and slipped off her apron, hanging it on the hook by the blue-painted door as she followed her baby out into the warm day.

Alex's bright, platinum blond hair glowed like a beacon in the sunshine, and for the first time of the day, Ginny felt an all-too-familiar wave of fear shiver through her ribcage. She glanced warily around, scanning the trees and the tops of the hills for any sign of life, and took a deep, steadying breath before she followed her son to the edge of the garden.

He was kneeling in the dirt next to the low gate of the thriving vegetable garden, poking the dirt with a stick. "Look, Mummy! A ladybird!"

She smiled and left the garden gate open for him. The first carrots of the year were ready, and she'd been dreaming about the nice, sweet taste of fresh carrots since she'd eaten the last of the previous year's crop in February. Crouching down among the lacy, leafy stems, she loosened the dirt around the base of the stem and pulled a lovely, bright orange carrot from the soil.

"Look," she called to her son, holding up the vegetable. "Carrots!"

He grinned and toddled over to her. "I's help Mummy, okay?"

"Alex," Ginny laughed, watching the toddler yank on the stem of a turnip, "darling, you're going to—"

The child fell over with a thump, greens in his grubby hands. He sat up and looked over at her expectantly.

She ruffled his hair. "You won't find anything to eat there, little man," she laughed. She grabbed a carrot and pulled it carefully. "See? You've got to get the root out."

He sighed. "I's hungry."

"What? But you just ate breakfast," she exclaimed.

He shook his head mournfully. "I's _hungry_"

Sighing, Ginny dusted the dirt from her hands. She scooped the small boy up and settled him on her hip. She crossed the small yard and swung open the green-painted back door into the cool kitchen. She settled Alex in his chair and turned toward the pantry.

"Bread and butter?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes."

She shook her head and reached for the bread—and froze suddenly, sure she'd just heard a knock came from the front door. Ginny sucked in her breath, trying to ignore the bolt of fear that still echoed under her ribcage. She counted to five, took a deep breath, and calmly sliced a thick piece from the crusty, fresh-baked loaf.

The knock came again, sharply echoing through the tiny cottage, and Ginny set down her knife and closed her eyes before turning to face her son. _It was probably nothing to worry about. A stranger_, she reasoned, but the fact that she'd hidden the place from Muggles and Wizards alike made her stomach constrict until it felt like a cold stone had settled in her belly.

"Don't move," she ordered, setting the fresh loaf on the rough-hewn table and combing her hair with her fingers. "I'll be back in a moment."

She walked down the short hall into the cozy living room, opened the front door—and promptly shut it.

"Nooooo," she hissed as the knock came again, this time with a slow, sarcastic tempo instead of a sharp rap. "No, no, no."

If she could just keep him outside. She inhaled a deep breath and flung open the door, stepping out into the bright sunlight with her chin held high.

"Hello, Draco," she said with a confident gaze. "What are you doing here?"

The man in front of her regarded her with mild amusement. "Are you not going to invite me in?" he inquired, arching one neat eyebrow. "I finally track you down and you greet me on the doorstep?"

"Any business you have with me certainly doesn't require my hospitality." Ginny shoved a disobedient curl behind her ear and folded her arms ruthlessly.

Draco smirked, and reached a hand out to brush her cheek with his thumb. "Baking today?" he asked. "And gardening, too, it would seem," he observed, erasing another smudge from her forehead with a gentle finger.

Ginny jerked away. "Don't touch me," she ordered, bracing herself against the rough frame of the cottage door. "Tell me why you're here or I'll hex your bits off."

The playful look in Draco's eyes evaporated instantly. "Why not invite me in?" he asked icily. "Have a lover in bed? Doesn't know I exist, does he?"

She clutched the doorknob shakily, finding it difficult to regain her confidence with his eyes trained on her so sharply. He took a step closer and reached his hand out to grasp hers—slipping it over the handle of the door.

"I—"

"Shall I go in and introduce myself?" he asked ruthlessly.

"No!" she cried. "There's no one in there. I haven't had a single 'lover' since—since _ever_." She lifted her chin. "But this is my home. My home, my life, and my decision to invite you in."

He listened to this impassioned speech coolly. "Trust me. I have no desire to re-enter your life. And if you would be so good as to allow me into your 'home,' I'd be happy to make that a permanent reality," he said, his hand tightening on hers. Carefully bridled fury danced in his eyes, and she inhaled sharply. She'd seen enough fury for a lifetime.

"How long will it take?" she asked quietly.

He paused. "A scant few minutes, I assure you. I would so hate to burden you with my company," he said, his voice heavy with angry sarcasm.

She glared at him for a long moment, then swung the green-painted front door open and stepped aside to let him enter.

"So this is the hovel in which you live? Charming. This place is actually crumbling around your ears," he commented with a sneer. "Must have been quite the adjustment after spending those years in comfort."

"It was a welcome adjustment," she snapped. "This is more of a home than your cold mansion ever was."

He lifted an eyebrow with derision. "Whatever. I've spent _years_ hunting you down, and I have two options for you. Either sign this writ of divorce—"

"Mummy, hurry _up_! I's so _hungry_!"

Draco froze. "_Mummy_?" he exhaled, turning toward her a look of pure ice. His jaw was hard, and for the first time in years, she felt rather than remembered how very terrifying he could be.

"I'll sign the papers," she said hurriedly, reaching for them, but he snatched them away and took the two steps to the kitchen door.

"Hello, man," she heard from the next room. "I's hungry."

She swallowed and ran into the kitchen. "Draco, I—"

But Draco already had her son in his arms. "How _could_ you, Gin?" he whispered, holding the boy protectively.

He looked up coolly, as if challenging her to take the child from him, and Ginny's life flashed before her eyes when she saw Draco holding her son. Their son.

Alex had been all smiles, but his happiness faded as soon as he saw his mum's face. Something was wrong, and he began to fuss. "Mummy?" he asked in a high voice.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Ginny reassured him. "You're fine."

Draco gave her a look and re-settled the boy in his arms. "What's your name?" he asked, his tone light.

Alex stared at him, shrinking back slightly.

"His name is Alex. Alexander," said Ginny hastily, moving forward. "Let me take him and we'll work this out."

Draco sidestepped her. "No, I don't think we will. I've spent years looking for you, and I won't let you—" he paused, and looked at Alex intently. The little boy was fretting outright now, and his lower lip quivered precariously.

"How old is he?"

Ginny swallowed. "Almost three."

Draco shook his head and gave her a look of pure disgust. "Despicable, Ginevra. That you had the audacity to run away, letting me think all sorts of things, is one thing. But this? Keeping a child from me for—for three years?"

She folded her arms, and her mind hunted madly for something—anything—that would make him leave.

"You don't know he's yours. Have you ever thought that's why I left?"

Draco gave her a look filled with derision. "Of course I did. My mind went through every single possibility, I assure you. But unless you were sleeping with my father, this is my child. Look at him—he's every inch a Malfoy."

Ginny bit her lip, and Draco glanced at her sharply. "You didn't sleep with my father, did you?"

"No!"

Her stomach turned at the thought of an intimate relationship with Lucius Malfoy. Especially after . . . everything. In what twisted family would a son assume his father was capable of such a thing? A son with a father like Lucius would. A son with a father like Draco might—Ginny's heart was in her throat, and she realized she wasn't breathing. This wasn't a world fit for a baby. Or for her.

Draco was watching her with loathing, holding the toddler tightly, and she was strangely reminded of Alex's expression when he didn't want to give up a toy.

"Be careful, Draco. You're going to hurt him," she pleaded, hating the tremor in her voice.

Draco sneered at her but gave his attention to Alex, who was crying in earnest now. He whispered something in the little boy's ear, and the crying turned to sniffles.

"What did you tell him?" Ginny demanded, feeling outright rage beginning to swell. "What lies are you feeding my child?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "I told _my _child that he was going to be perfectly safe," he said gently, "and that his mum would be perfectly safe, too." His eyes glittered dangerously. "Care to make that into a lie?"

Ginny glared at him. "I hate you."

"The feeling is rather mutual, unfortunately," Draco said coolly, shifting Alex to his other shoulder. "But I'm going to give _you_ the choice to be in your child's life. He will return home with me; you're welcome to join us. If not, I'll have the divorce papers owled to you. With a custody addendum."

He had her cornered neatly, and she cursed herself. It would have been stupid for her to think he'd do otherwise; she never should have opened the door. But she'd left him before. She could do it again.

She sighed heavily.

"I need to pack."

"Take your time, darling." He smirked triumphantly and smoothed his son's platinum blond hair, and Ginny noticed with a cringe that her baby's hair was identical to his father's.

Torn between the desire to keep Alex in her line of sight and the need to be out of Draco's, she struggled, then fled.

The cottage only had three rooms, and she sank down in front of the small bureau in the small bedroom she shared with Alex. Her fingernails dug into the wood of the lowest drawer, and she allowed herself one shuddery sob before she wrenched it open.

Her hands drifted idly over the soft fabrics of her former life and she pulled them aside, uncovering a silver-plated photo frame in which a charming groom swept a smiling, red-headed bride into a kiss. Suddenly full of revulsion, she slammed the drawer and stood.

This was her house, and she'd built this life from the ground up. She was every bit a witch, and the second Draco set Alex down, she'd Stun him. She'd need to take him elsewhere, then Obliviate him—and she'd need something to do with Alex in the meantime. He'd be traumatized.

This was exactly why she'd left in the first place.

She angrily yanked a canvas bag off a hook on the wall and began stuffing it with a random assortment of items—a blanket, a toy of Alex's, and an apron she'd tossed on the floor next to her laundry basket. The bag looked decently full in a matter of minutes, so she pulled her wand out and crossed the hall.

Draco was still holding Alex tightly to his chest. She cursed inwardly as he took in her flushed appearance.

"I assume you'll need to lift the wards to allow me to Apparate," he drawled.

She contemplated risking the Stunning spell, but she knew as well as he did that she would never put Alex in the way of danger, even if it was just the danger of a stupified Draco falling over with the toddler in his arms.

"I'll lift them if you'll let me Apparate with him," she said, feigning confidence.

He sneered disparagingly. "Don't be ridiculous, Ginevra. I trust you less than I trust my father right now, and that's quite an accomplishment on your part."

"Side-along, then," she challenged. "I don't trust you either."

This earned a mean chuckle. "I've never betrayed you, darling. But I'll take you side-along, if you insist. Come here."

She obeyed, choking up on her wand as she stepped to his side, eyeing him warily. She was so, so close—

He rolled his eyes. "Really, darling. It's not like I'm going to—"

"Stupe—" she began, but he moved quicker than she thought possible and grasped her wand firmly, wrenching it from her grasp, then brought it down on the hard oak counter with a _thwack_ that echoed through the small kitchen.

"—bite," he finished smoothly, handing her the two halves of the thin stick of hazel that had once been her wand.

Alex was crying in earnest again, and his cries were the only thing louder than the roaring in Ginny's ears. She felt like she'd been punched in the stomach, and she had to fight to keep her breakfast down and her lungs full of air.

She heard Draco say something, but the words were unintelligible. She felt his arm wrap tightly around her shoulders and felt her stomach heave as her hands found Alex's kicking feet just as the tight, uncomfortable squeeze of Apparition stole her away from the home she that she'd worked so, so hard to create.

And as the floor materialized into pristine marble, she vomited all over it.

* * *

A/N: Before you cry foul, I've already sent the next chapter of _Red Ember_ to my beta reader. :)

This is the long-awaited "Roots" fic, which was inspired by the drabble #42 in the 100 Drabbles in 100 Days project that I did—you can find more drabbles in _Myriad_ if you like. When I finished that project, I promised to write it. And now that I am officially breaking my "only one big work-in-progress at a time" rule, I can begin to post it.

This particular plot caught the fancy of a few people whose input I really value, including libraryamy, darcyMitch, Jack Tamara, and Boogum (who was also kind enough to review a draft of this a very long time ago and assure me that it wasn't rubbish).

With _Red Ember_, I've been attempting to take the "Ginny is held captive at Malfoy Manor" cliché and write it how I've always wanted to write it—with strong characters and without Draco turning into a knight overnight. With this story, I want to take the "Draco didn't know he was a Dad!" cliché and do the same thing. I have no plans to make this into a 'typical' fanfic, and I'd love if you could tell me how you think I'm doing.

I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny knew before she opened her eyes that something was very wrong. The thread-count of the sheets was too high, and—

"Alex!" she cried, sitting bolt upright in bed. She scanned the room, panicked.

Her child was not in the opulent bed in which she found herself, and as she blinked back bleary-eyed sleep, she quickly realized that he wasn't in the room with her at all. Ginny scrambled out from the covers, ignoring the foul taste of stale vomit on her breath. The chill of the room after the warmth of the bed made her shiver, and she looked down at her bare legs in dismay. Not only was her child gone, but half her clothing had vanished as well.

But Alex was more important than clothes, so Ginny grabbed the cover from the bed and fashioned a hasty toga over her knickers and camisole, then fled to the door. She half expected to find it locked, and sighed with relief when the handle turned. She didn't have a wand, so even _Alohomora_ wasn't an option. The sudden recollection of her broken wand made her gag involuntarily, and she had the fleeting sense that the snapped stick was actually having a magic-related effect on her body—but worry for Alex won over her thoughts, and she drove the nauseated feelings out of her mind.

She half ran through the long corridors of the mansion, piecing together the floor plan from a memory that was almost three years old. It was hard to believe that she'd ever been mistress of this place—not that she'd felt much like a mistress at the time. She could barely remember where the kitchen was, much less what it had first felt like to live here.

The home was much smaller than the manor where Lucius and Narcissa lived in Wiltshire, but just as grand. It was one of the Malfoy summer homes in Scotland, and Draco and Ginny had made it their permanent home after their wedding. The spaces were all familiar; it seemed Draco hadn't done much to change the house since she'd gone.

She arrived at the top of the front staircase, a grand structure that opened out into the front hall downstairs, and cried, "Alex!"

The house was silent.

Ginny swore and flew down the stairs as quickly as she could without tripping over the loosely knotted coverlet. Her bare feet slapped the parquet floor of the hall as she crossed the large, sunny hall in order to tug on the door to Draco's study. It was locked.

"Looking for me?" he drawled from behind her.

Ginny felt all sorts of anger bubble up in her chest as she turned, clutching the huge sheet across her midsection. Draco was leaning against the balustrade at the foot of the stairs, his face unreadable. She allowed herself to indulge in a quick daydream of grabbing his white-blond hair and slamming his head into the hard oak railing, nose first.

"No. I'm looking for my son," she spat.

Draco nodded, still maddeningly calm. "You're wearing a blanket," he observed coolly.

"For fuck's sake, Draco, don't try to give me the runaround. Where is Alex?" Ginny demanded. Her face was hot with anger, and imagery of blood gushing from that perfect nose was more than a little tempting. She stalked toward him, her fists clenched around the fine cloth of the coverlet.

"Are you always this . . . volatile?" Draco said with a smirk. "As much as I adore your temper, darling, I'm not so sure it creates a good environment for a growing boy."

Ginny barreled into his chest so hard that both of them went crashing down onto the hardwood floor. Pain bit into her wrist with a sickening crunch, but she ignored it in favor of jamming her other elbow into his ribs, pulling herself up to sit on his stomach.

He groaned. "Gods, witch. Fighting like a Muggle, now? I could have you in front of the Wizengamot for assault."

"Where is my son?" she ground out. "And you've snapped my wand, remember?"

"Lucky for me, that." He sighed and laid his head back on the floor. "Alex is sleeping in the nursery, safe and sound."

"You're going to take me to him," Ginny demanded, ignoring the pain in her wrist and doing her best to look authoritative while clutching a blanket around her midsection. "Show me. And then give me my clothes back."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "You got sick on them, and they were falling apart besides. But your clothes are all in your closet, exactly as you left them. And you can direct yourself to the nursery. I have no need or desire to take you anywhere."

He pulled his arms up and pushed himself upright, causing Ginny to fall into his lap. She scrambled backward and pitched sideways, jostling her injured wrist. She couldn't help but cry out; it was clearly sprained or worse. Her sheet pooled around her waist as she clutched it to her chest.

"I suppose that needs healing?" Draco said, standing. "Would you like me to—"

Ginny looked up and gave him a thorough glower. "I will see Alex first. Perhaps you don't know what it's like, but I've been a parent for over two years and I put my child's safety and well-being ahead of my own."

He studied her coolly for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. When you decide you need help, I'll be in my study." He turned and walked away, then called back, "The nursery is adjacent to the guest room I put you in—second floor, left hallway, third door."

Ginny picked herself up off the floor, wincing every time she jostled her wrist. She was fairly certain she'd broken it, and not having a wand of her own was going to make healing it very difficult; there was no way she was going ask him for help.

The nursery was easy to find, and she felt a slight blush creep up her neck for how panicked she'd become when Draco had obviously put her next door. Not that she'd ever been in here before. She'd had absolutely no need to think about children back then, much less decorate a room for one, and he certainly would have known that.

It was, however, a lovely room. The ceiling was enchanted like a sky on a lovely summer's day, with soft white clouds gently sailing across it. Delicately painted murals swept over the walls, featuring happy scenes Ginny recognized from childhood stories and rhymes her mother had told her long, long ago. Two child-sized beds were tucked into dormers, and in one of them, nestled under a snuggly, ivory-colored eiderdown, she found Alex sleeping soundly.

Something caught in her heart as she sank down next him and put her good hand on his small little head. It was silly to think that Draco would cause any harm to the little boy; not physical harm, anyway. No, he'd protect him from everything but his family.

Ginny brushed back the soft strands of blond hair that fell over her baby's forehead and kissed him gently. "I'm going to get you out of here, my darling. I promise."

The adrenaline rush began to fade as she watched him breathe peacefully, and she began to be aware of exactly how hurt her arm was. Her wrist had swollen and her fingers felt oddly numb, and just looking at it made her feel light-headed. She was probably going into shock.

She gritted her teeth and awkwardly used her good arm to wrap the blanket around her obviously broken one, immobilizing it as best she could.

"How _do _Muggles do this?" she muttered aloud. She stood carefully, biting back expletives as the pain hit her harder than ever, and tried to assess her options.

She could Floo to St. Mungo's, of course. But they'd want to know why she hadn't just healed it herself (this was hardly a _magical _malady). And besides, if Draco had the house warded, she might not be able to get back in. Perhaps Draco still kept House Elves? Ginny sighed. For all she knew, House Elves were incapable of healing magic. No, she'd have to either steal Draco's wand or ask him to heal it for her.

A wave of nausea hit her full force, and she gave Alex one last look before she left him in the peaceful nursery to go find Draco.

As she walked through the halls this time, she saw that Draco really hadn't changed anything, right down to the wedding photo that graced a console table at the top of the front staircase. A crystal vase of white tea roses bloomed in full force next to the picture, and Ginny cringed inwardly as she remembered the contents of her bottom drawer back at the cottage. _He probably doesn't spend a lot of time up here_, she thought as she watched the couple kiss.

She slowly trekked down the stairs and across the large, sunny foyer, through the morning parlor, and into Draco's day study, a warm room decorated in golden oaks and emeralds.

He was reclining on a low leather couch with a copy of The Daily Prophet when she pushed open the door with a half-hearted knock.

"I trust he was sleeping safely?" Draco drawled sarcastically, flipping the top of his paper down to look at her.

Ginny swallowed. "I think I broke my wrist when I fell," she said, touching her arm through the blanket. "And I don't have a wand," she added pointedly.

He arched an eyebrow and tossed the paper aside. She noticed that he was barefoot, and for some reason, this caught her off guard. "Let me see it," he said, gently prying her arm from the miles of fabric.

"Merlin, Gin," he said softly. "You did this when you fell?"

"We both know I have a high tolerance for pain," she said with a humorless laugh. He winced, but gently prodded her arm.

"It's definitely broken, but it's a clean break. I can—"

"I took basic Healing too. I'll do it."

He looked at her sharply. "With what wand?"

"Draco, you can't mean to keep me here, in your house, with no wand. I'm not your bloody prisoner."

He let go of her arm and slipped his wand back into his pocket. "Fine. Go get help elsewhere. I'm not keeping you here against your will."

"Maybe not _this_ time," she spat. "But you're keeping Alex here, and you know I won't leave him."

"I also know that the second you touch my wand, you'll Apparate to the nursery, take my child, and Apparate out of the country."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scowled.

He smirked. "You always were a terrible Occlumens, darling."

She suddenly became aware of the odd, familiar sensation of him tickling the edge of her thoughts and she threw him out of her mind with sudden violence. "You promised never to do that again," she hissed.

"You keep all that venom on the surface. I hardly need to prod your thoughts; it's all over your bloody face. Besides, Ginny, you promised to be faithful 'til death, and then you _kidnapped _my _child_. I don't trust you within a yard of my wand, and as long as you are in my house, I'm not letting you have one.

"And besides, after everything that you've done today, I think every law and every tabloid would see the story my way," he said, calmly sitting back on the couch and picking up his paper once more.

Ginny's arm was beginning to tingle, and jets of pain had been shooting more steadily through her wrist and fingertips. Better to save her stubbornness for the really important battles, she decided.

"Fine," she said, holding out her arm. "You do it."

He shook his head but took her arm with both hands, unwrapping the sheet from her arm with gentle fingers. "Here, sit down," he said, unsheathing his wand and gently tracing it over Ginny's wrist. Pale blue lines glowed on her skin as he murmured minor spells to assuage the bruising and swelling. "_Ferula_," he finally said, and bandages and a splint formed from the air and tied themselves tightly around Ginny's arm, setting her wrist and holding it still all at once.

He lifted her arm carefully to examine his work. "How does that feel?" he said, meeting her eyes with concern. "Better?"

"Don't play games with me," she answered, wiggling her fingers. "Fake all the concern you like and fill the house with white roses. I'll still hate you."

He dropped her hand and gave her a hard stare. "I'll play whatever games I want," he said quietly. "And I will win them."

She wanted to smack him again. Or hex him. Or at least think of a decent reply. But her mind was too crowded with anger and adrenaline, and so she just met his eyes and glared until he looked down at her bandaged arm.

"You'll need a shot of Skele-Gro, but it should be fine by tonight," he said, and snapped twice. A House Elf appeared with a pop. "A drachm of Skele-Gro potion," he ordered.

The creature was back in a moment with a small spoonful of smoking liquid and Ginny drank it with one quick gulp. Even though the dose was tiny, it still felt like swallowing ground glass, and she gagged slightly as it settled in her stomach.

"That'll be all, Milly." The Elf disappeared with a pop.

"All better?" Draco asked, now with an unmistakable edge of sarcasm at the edge of his voice. He reached again for his paper.

Ginny nodded mutely, dropping her splinted arm to her lap. As she rested her fingers on the bare skin of her thigh, she realized that her blanket-toga had slid sideways, giving Draco a clear view of her knickers. She hastily wrapped it more tightly around her body.

"Honestly, Ginevra. I've seen it. There's living proof in the nursery," he drawled from behind the paper.

Cheeks hot from both anger and embarrassment, Ginny stood and let the cover drop. "Fine, then. Where are my clothes?"

"I told you," he said, turning the page. "I haven't moved your clothes."

Ignoring the temptation to grab the sheet, she turned and walked out of the room, glancing back just once to see if he was watching her leave—but his eyes were fixed on his paper.

Her clothes were in the master bedroom, then. What had Draco been doing for three years that he hadn't had time to get rid of her things? He must not have been living in this house the whole time. That would explain a lot.

"Fine," she muttered aloud as she walked up the stairs. "I'll play the stupid game."

She'd overcome the hell of a Malfoy prison once. She could do it again.

* * *

A/N: This took a bit longer than I thought it would, and it's not beta-read so please forgive my errors and rapid-fire pacing. I found out that we need to move this month, so all my evenings have gone to packing and apartment hunting. Bother. (Red Ember is forthcoming!)

Thanks for all the lovely feedback on the first chapter. I truly have the best readers. :)


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